


Mending

by Wolveria



Series: Bounty Hunter Blues [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angry Cad Bane, Angst, Bounty hunter blues, Clueless Obi-Wan, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Scum, M/M, Pre-Relationship, goddamn Jedi, scorned Duros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6697516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolveria/pseuds/Wolveria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan Kenobi is haunted by guilt after his fictitious death and deceitful disguise as Rako Hardeen. He struggles to deal with losing the trust of those he cares for most. But it takes a startling encounter with a scorned bounty hunter for the Jedi Master to confront the full weight of his actions, and begin the long journey for atonement and forgiveness. [Post-Deception Arc]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Obi-Wan Kenobi spit coppery blood onto the plush carpet of the darkened bedroom, shaking the hair from his eyes as he studied the man who towered over him. The Jedi was unperturbed by his bleeding lip, his panging ribs, even his throbbing knee (he was fairly sure he had a torn ligament). His only concern was the trouble in front of him, and the barrel of a LL-30 blaster now pressed against the center of his forehead.

Obi-Wan’s smoldering glare was fixed on the oval, crimson eyes that blazed with an all-consuming hatred he had seen before, not so long ago on the planet of Naboo. It was after that fateful encounter that things had begun to fall apart for Obi-Wan, and this seemed to be the inevitable culmination of that event.

“What are you waiting for, bounty hunter?” the Jedi prodded, slightly shifting in the cushioned chair, his bound wrists clinking behind his back. “Here I am, face-to-face. If I remember correctly, that _is_ your preferred method of murder.”

The pressure against his forehead increased, and Obi-Wan wondered (not for the first time) just what in the hell he was doing. Why was he taunting the mercenary who had every incentive to plant a bolt between his eyes? Had things fallen so far that he had acquired a death wish?

And yet, apart from his ragged breathing, the Duros remained silent. There was no blaster-fire, no more vicious blows to Obi-Wan’s face or body, and the expression on his captor’s face was… odd.

Plunging headlong into the recklessness that was more characteristic of his former Padawan, Obi-Wan lifted his chin and snapped, “Kill me or release me. Either way, get on with it, _Bane_.”

 

* * *

 

**30 Minutes Earlier**

“-And that is why we are expressly grateful for the aid offered to us by the Galactic Republic. Takobian ore can produce some of the hardest metalloids in the Mid Rim, and we are certain our continued trade with the Core Worlds will be-“

Obi-Wan Kenobi stared at his third glass of fuchsia wine as the Ithorian senator praised the trade agreement ad nauseam, wishing at that moment that it was a Corellian brandy. Or that he was several hundred parsecs away.

It wasn’t that he was ungrateful to the Council for the distraction, even though simple diplomatic missions such as this were usually reserved for ambassadors and senators. Takobo was a peaceful planet, his aim was a simple one – renew the trade treaty to provide military protection for Takobo against Separatist ships in exchange for their unique ore which could create nearly-impenetrable metal. It gave Obi-wan a rare opportunity to relax and recharge after he had gone behind enemy lines to thwart the conspiracy against Chancellor Palpatine.

Only he couldn’t relax, even though his time as a cold-blooded killer had not been so unpleasant. Replicating his own death and masquerading as a mercenary had actually been enjoyable, in an odd sort of way. For a time, he had been able to step out of his own shoes as Obi-Wan Kenobi and fill the role of lethal sniper, Rako Hardeen. He had shaken off the responsibility of Jedi Master and had donned the mantle of lawless, selfish, hedonistic gun-for-hire.

The problems began when he stepped back into his old life as Obi-Wan Kenobi. When he had to face the consequences of what he and the Council had done, and how it had affected those close to him.

Of all of his companions, Ahsoka had taken the news of his deceit rather well. It was a testament to her strength and maturity, and her master would do well to learn from his Padawan.

Anakin, of course, had taken his “death” the worst, as Obi-Wan knew he would. It was to be expected. What _hadn’t_ been expected was the way Anakin refused to look at him. He would barely speak to Obi-Wan, only out of necessity, and always with a tone of cold indifference. It was such a startling difference from the passionate, hot-headed man he had mentored from childhood that Obi-Wan was genuinely unnerved.

When Obi-Wan had spoken to Satine for the first time since his fictitious death, the Duchess had held herself with absolute poise – head high with shoulders straight and proud. She acted every inch the ruler she was, stating that she understood the need for secrecy in order to protect the Republic, and he had absolutely loved and respected her for it. It wasn’t until they were in private that she had angrily beat her small fists against his chest, her shouts against his recklessness eventually devolving into hiccupping sobs. All he could do was hold her as she expressed all of the grief and horror she had experienced from his deception.

It was at that moment when the seed of self-loathing, which Anakin’s cold distance had first planted, began to sprout.

Master Yoda had evidently sensed the difference in Obi-Wan. The strain within was slowly building with each day, sustained and encouraged by the Jedi Master’s inner contempt. Between Anakin’s growing alienation from Obi-Wan and the Council, and Ahsoka’s silent but constant anxiety for her master, Obi-Wan wondered for the first time (in a long time) if he was going to snap.

And now here he was – on the peaceful, beautiful planet of Takobo, listening to Senator Munbu drone on and on about trade agreements, alliance pacts, and the sublime weather of his planet. Obi-Wan found himself desperately needing something more than simple alcohol, though he couldn’t name what he wanted precisely. Which was just as well – his head was pleasantly buzzing and his stomach was almost hot from the potency of whatever wine he had been imbibing.

At that moment, he supposed what he wanted most was to _get away_. Retreat somewhere dark and quiet, where he could shut out the world and just stop _thinking_. But it was too early to leave the stately dinner – which was being held in his honor and attended by the city’s most substantial politicians and socialites – and still maintain social graces.

Thankfully, the Ithorian senator saved him the dilemma of choosing between boredom and bad manners. The weariness must have been plain even for Senator Munbu to recognize, because the Ithorian leaned his massive head forward and remarked, “Master Kenobi, you appear exhausted. We can discuss these issues on the morrow, if it pleases you.”

Obi-Wan fixed his most convincing smile on his face and replied, “Thank you, Senator Munbu. It has been a long journey, and I’m afraid it’s left me quite drained. I apologize for being such a terrible houseguest.”

“Do not trouble yourself, Master Kenobi! The servants already have your quarters readied – the droid will show you the way.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head to the Senator, an undercurrent of Guilt running through him at the unflattering way he had viewed the Senator’s discourse moments before. Feelings of shame seemed to be a recurring theme with the Jedi Master as of late, and they showed no signs of dissipating.

“Thank you again, Senator Munbu. Have a pleasant evening. Ladies, gentlemen,” Obi-Wan added, graciously bowing his head to the remaining party members as he took his leave, relief slowly loosening his shoulders as he followed the lavender protocol droid from the banquet hall.

The respite did not last. As soon as he entered the darkened bedroom, one of many in the Senator’s city estate (and from what he could tell, he had an entire wing to himself), Obi-Wan began to feel the tension slowly creep back into his muscles. His back was stiff, his calves sore, and even his arms ached in a fashion unfamiliar to the physically fit Jedi.

Ever since the plot on Naboo and his contrived death, Obi-Wan had felt as though he had aged thirty years. He needed sleep, _real_ sleep, not the inadequate snippets of rest he could catch on whatever Republic ship he had boarded, or the fitful bouts of sleep at the Temple punctuated by emergency Council meetings.

Obi-Wan did not bother to turn on the lights as he made his way to the oversized, lavish bed that dominated the raised portion of the room. Even in the dim light, the Jedi could discern the elaborate and expensive qualities of the bed, far more luxurious than anything he had slept in before.

The Guilt stirred in his chest and he actually scoffed at himself. _It’s just a damned bed – no need to crucify yourself over it._

Obi-Wan crawled onto the plush covers without removing any of his attire, simply wanting to rest on his back while staring up into the darkness, feeling the weight of gravity settle on his aching bones and twinging muscles. He let out a long, weary sigh, his arms held out across the bed, his boots dangling over the bottom edge as he waited for the darkness to swallow up his consciousness.

He waited. And waited. And waited some more.

Another long breath was expelled, this one of frustration rather than fatigue. It seemed sleep was going to escape him despite his bone-deep exhaustion.

Obi-Wan was beginning to pull himself into a sitting position, deciding that meditation would be a wiser method of relaxation, when he felt a shift in the room. He didn’t know if it was a change in air pressure, or if it had been a noise, or if it had been his senses forewarning him, but he realized he was not alone.

He was just about to call out a warning to the intruder when he felt something speeding toward him through the darkness. Obi-Wan threw himself to the side and rolled off the bed, hitting the padded floor as whatever missed him slammed into the light fixture next to the bed, shattered glass pelting his shoulders and head.

Hearing a whistling sound through the air, Obi-Wan realized it was a retractable weapon. Leaping to his feet while ignoring the glass falling from his robes, Obi-Wan readied the lightsaber hilt in his hands, igniting the blade to illuminate his quarters in a furtive glow of cobalt.

The projectile whistled across the space once more, and the Jedi reflected the tapered end with his lightsaber, knocking it past to embed itself into the rococo-styled wall. The rush of adrenaline had temporarily overridden the exhaustion in his body and the alcohol in his blood, his skin tingling as his senses became fully battle-alert.

There was a long, thin cord attached to the weapon which led back into the darkness, and Obi-Wan waited with his humming blade in a defensive position for his attacker to reveal themselves.

The first shape to enter the circle of blue cast by the laser sword was the black yawning void of a hood. A scuffed, black boot entered next, followed by the long, lanky form of a cloth-clad figure. He was nearly covered head to foot, but Obi-Wan recognized the oval, crimson eyes that glittered from within the hood.

“Hello, Bane,” Obi-Wan greeted evenly, as if he had been waiting for the bounty hunter. And perhaps he had been. He had known this encounter was inevitable, didn’t he? Cad Bane had sworn revenge with more hatred than he had ever seen from the man, and Obi-Wan had fought him on several occasions. In each of those encounters, Bane had been ruthless and violent, but always seemed to enjoy his battles with the Jedi, a continual sneer formed by his cracked, blue lips.

All of the mocking glee was gone from his face now – there was only the smoldering hatred that burned from his scarlet eyes. The corner of his upper lip was curled back, revealing the tip of a fanged tooth beneath.

“I’m afraid you have the wrong room. This one is already occupied,” Obi-Wan commented, waiting for a snide reply from the wiry Duros. None came. The man simply glared at him, the intensity of his hostility obvious even to those without the ability to use the Force to sense emotions in others.

“All right, Bane. If that’s how you’re going to play it, I have no choice but to-“

- _demand your surrender_ was what Obi-Wan was going to say, but he never finished the statement as Bane jerked his arm, pulling the cable connected to his left gauntlet. The cable sprang from the wall and retracted towards its owner, but instead of receding in a straight line, it curved like a whip, ensnaring the Jedi around the torso.

Obi-Wan had seen Bane use this exact tactic against Anakin while he was disguised as Rako Hardeen, and yet he was completely unprepared for it. He was forced to extinguish his lightsaber in order to keep from decapitating himself with it, plunging them both into the darkness. The Jedi was yanked forward off of his feet, and before he could catch himself, a hard kick connected with his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs as he tumbled to the carpeted floor.

Ignoring the cramping agony from his diaphragm, Obi-Wan lashed out where he sensed Bane was hovering over him, catching the Duros in the ankles as he kicked his legs out from under him. Bane let out a startled yelp as he fell to the ground, and Obi-Wan aimed his lightsaber hilt away from his face, igniting the blade and severing the cable binding his arms to his chest.

The Jedi Master sprang to his feet from where he lay on his back, twirling his blade around to aim its tip at the bounty hunter, but Bane had already moved from the spot where he had fallen. Obi-Wan sensed the attack from behind but was too slow to avoid it as the blow struck him on the back of the head.

Obi-Wan grunted and stumbled forward, spinning around to catch the bounty hunter with his blade, but Bane leapt smoothly beyond the length of his lightsaber. Instead of teasing or taunting the Jedi, Bane seethed at him, his lips pulled back to fully reveal his sharp fangs. In the blue glow of the lightsaber, he appeared absolutely ghastly, especially with the dark hood shadowing his features.

As Obi-Wan rubbed the back of his throbbing head, he realized there was a slight problem. His reflexes were muddled and dampened by the alcohol and fatigue, and the Force could only do so much to compensate. It was only a matter of time before the adrenaline wore off as well, and when that happened, Obi-Wan might actually be in some danger. Bane was not an opponent to take lightly in the best of circumstances, and right now, the bounty hunter was clearly out for blood.

Obi-Wan held his ignited lightsaber between himself and Bane, the blue light illuminating the deep hollows of the Duros’ face. The Jedi’s eyebrows creased in confusion. He didn’t think it was possible, but Bane appeared even thinner than the last time he saw him on Naboo.

“I don’t suppose there’s any point in trying to convince you to turn yourself in,” Obi-Wan inquired calmly, the two now circling each other as the Jedi held his laser sword before him like a ward against evil. “It would make things much simpler for the both of us.”

Obi-Wan would have preferred to hear a response, _any_ response, whether it be one of sarcasm or verbal poison. Anything to get Bane to start talking. His unusual silence did not bode well for how the situation would resolve itself. If he spoke, at the very least, Obi-Wan could gauge how the Duros would react and formulate a plan for how to deal with him.

Obi-Wan was beginning to grow concerned Bane had gone mad during his incarceration. The look in his eyes was more than a little unhinged, and his tattered appearance was extremely abnormal for the typically well-prepared bounty hunter. And from the intense look in his scarlet eyes, Obi-Wan had an inkling of who the Duros blamed for his current state.

Obi-Wan ignored the whispers of Guilt and continued to circle away from Bane. One of them was going to have to make the first move, and as much as Obi-Wan did not like to press initial attacks he saw no other option. Bane – for whatever reason – had not attempted another assault, and Obi-Wan did not know what he carried in his arsenal. Still, he did not want to lash out with his lightsaber and _kill_ the bounty hunter. That option would be reserved as his last.

“Very well, Bane,” Obi-Wan remarked, accepting the Duros’ continued silence as an indication of his refusal to cooperate. The Jedi jerked his left hand forward and blasted an invisible wave toward the bounty hunter, the Force colliding with him as he was tossed across the room with a surprised yell. Bane slammed into the far wall with a grunt, sliding down its surface to rest against the floor.

As Obi-Wan approached with his lightsaber pointed forward, Bane reached down and pressed a button on his left wrist gauntlet. The Jedi paused, waiting for some ruse to spring from his wrist gauntlets.

Nothing happened for a moment, and Obi-Wan was about to descend on the bounty hunter when he sensed the danger from behind. He glanced over his shoulder and dodged out of the way of a red laser bolt, the thin energy beam burning through one of the lounge chairs instead.

Three levitating prisms made of cheap, ruby-colored glass hovered in the air. Bane must have planted them somewhere in the room before Obi-Wan had arrived, and if he didn’t know better he would say they were children’s toys repurposed with a deadly intent.

The Jedi was forced to pay attention to the laser crystals as they began to spray crimson bolts in his direction, managing to reflect a bolt back to one of the prisms, causing it to spark and explode immediately.

“I see you’ve brought friends,” Obi-Wan smirked as he reflected several more bolts, crisscrossing his lightsaber across his chest as he destroyed the second prism, then rolling across the floor to avoid the barrage from the third. “You should know, I’ll be returning them to you in pieces,” he proclaimed with a half-grin towards the silent bounty hunter as he expertly deflected each scarlet bolt that headed his way.

As Obi-Wan destroyed the last levitating crystal, he wondered what Bane had been thinking. He had seen the Jedi personally destroy probe droids with his bare hands during the final challenge of the Box. Did the bounty hunter truly believe these machines would-

The thought was never completed as Bane seized Obi-Wan’s right bicep with his long fingers, and the Jedi cried out as he felt a sharp pain pierce his muscles. A cold numbness began to creep down his arm, and he dropped his lightsaber as his fingers lost all feeling. The weapon extinguished itself before it hit the carpet.

“That’s… a new trick,” Obi-Wan gasped as he began to reach for the weapon with his left hand. Stars exploded before his eyes as a hard blow struck the side of his head, forcing him to stumble away as the room spun precariously. He shook his head and raised his still-functioning hand just in time to block the next assault – a vicious kick aimed at his ear from the lanky Duros.

The Jedi grabbed his leg by the ankle and spun him around, throwing him across the room. But the bounty hunter was ready this time, and he activated his rocket boots mid-flight, shooting back across the room and slamming into Obi-Wan’s midsection. They flew several feet, but the additional weight dragged them towards the ground. Bane’s momentum caused them to slam into the carpet, the two of them tumbling roughly across the room.

Bane was on top of him before he could react, straddling Obi-Wan’s stomach and raining down brutal and constant blows along his face and neck with more strength than he thought possible for the scrawny Duros. The Jedi attempted to shield his face with his left arm – his right completely lifeless at this point.

In a move of desperation, Obi-Wan shoved his hand against Bane’s chest and threw the Force from his palm, lifting the bounty hunter and slamming him against the tall, ornate ceiling. The Jedi rolled out of the way as Bane collided with the floor on his return descent, a pained snarl escaping him.

Obi-Wan regained his feet quickly, but Bane was on him almost immediately, wrapping an arm around his neck from behind and kicking him behind the left knee. Obi-Wan yelled harshly as he felt something tear within the joint, but the sound was silenced as Bane pressed his forearm against his larynx, cutting off his supply of air.

With his good arm, Obi-Wan threw his elbow back as hard as he could, dislodging the bounty hunter as the point of his elbow collided with his ribs. Bane responded to the assault with one of his own, his bony knee springing upwards to smash into Obi-Wan’s spleen.

The Jedi Master did not recover from the jab as he collapsed to the floor, the numbness slowly spreading along his chest and making his head woozy. He realized, with far less concern than he should have, that he was succumbing to the poison that Bane had injected into his arm.

Obi-Wan watched as Bane slowly leaned down to retrieve the lightsaber from where it had fallen, appraising the lifeless weapon cradled in his long fingers. A blue thumbpad brushed against the ignition switch before pressing down, causing the weapon to spring to life in the bounty hunter’s hands.

It was at that moment when he finally spoke, his voice raw and crackling as though it had not been used in a long time. Or that it had been used too much.

“Cruel. Deadly. Deceptively beautiful. Deh perfect weapon for deh hypocrisy of deh Jedi.” The quality of his voice was unaffected, as the breathing tubes which ordinarily adorned his bounty hunter ensemble were absent. It seemed he hadn’t been able to replace them since his most recent prison escape.

Bane took another moment to examine the laser sword, the azure light eerily reflecting in his cold, deadpan eyes. Then the blade was extinguished and the Duros knelt down on the carpet next to the Jedi, grabbing his face and turning it upwards so they made eye contact. Bane stared down at him with nothing but disdain on his face, his upper lip curled back in disgust.

“It’s a shame ye’ll never hold it in yer hands again, _Kenobi_ ,” Bane snarled in a low growl, and Obi-Wan was helpless to respond as the paralysis froze the majority of his muscles, locking his jaw firmly in place. He could glare though, and glare he did, peering up at the bounty hunter with all of the defiance he could gather. If this was how he was going to die, he would not give Bane an ounce of satisfaction by showing anything less than his full contempt.

Obi-wan could do nothing but watch as the bounty hunter released his face and rose to his feet.

“Lights out, _Jedi_ ,” Bane said in a growl that was almost a purr, and the last thing Obi-Wan saw was the bottom of Bane’s boot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This is a very short story, only three chapters, but I hope you enjoy it. I started this fic because I have a LOT of unresolved feelings regarding Obi-Wan and Bane after the "Hardeen Incident". I don't know if the writers of The Clone Wars intended to ever visit this issue again, and it's something I doubt we will ever know. I hope this story helps you as it has helped me in finding closure for this surprisingly poignant story arc.
> 
> If you feel so inclined (because I absolutely adore them) please leave a review/comment to let me know how I'm doing. Bane and Obi are some of my favorite characters, and I want to do right by them.
> 
> Thank you to CaptainMazzic on Tumblr for being my awesome beta reader.


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-Wan regained consciousness while seated in the upright position, his head bent forward with his chin resting on his chest, his neck aching as the world slowly blossomed into view. He slowly raised his head and blinked his eyes heavily as he noted his surroundings, though there wasn’t much to see in the dimly lit bedroom.

As the drug began to fade from his senses, Obi-Wan realized his hands were bound behind the back of the dining chair he was currently occupying. The Jedi tested the restraints and an unpleasant shock went up his forearms from the cuffs around his wrists, causing him to grit his teeth. The bounty hunter had certainly come prepared for this confrontation.

The Jedi had not been moved far – perhaps a few meters towards the center of the small dining area. The Senator’s estate was so grand that each bedroom was almost a complete residence, furnished with a kitchen and eating area. From his position, he could glimpse the breathtaking city if he looked over his shoulder, though this risked an electric bite from his restraints.

“It’s too nice a night for such unpleasantries, wouldn’t you say?” Obi-Wan commented in a warm, pleasant tone. He couldn’t see Bane, but he could sense him nearby – his barely-contained fury creating a buzzing undercurrent in the air. “Why don’t you untie me and we can discuss this like two civilized gentlemen?”

The hooded Duros entered his field of vision like a dark phantom, seeming to glide above the carpet as he came to a halt in front of the restrained Jedi. Even though the light from the city was dim, it cast enough illumination for the Jedi to get a better look at the bounty hunter.

Cad Bane was disheveled in appearance, gaunt in the face, and his body language spoke of constant wariness. Normally, his attire consisted of items of questionable taste but undeniable practicality. He sported the usual wrist gauntlets and rocket boots, but his signature wide-brim hat was nowhere to be seen. His cloth cloak was tattered, his trousers slightly too big, and his brown tunic torn and stained green in several places.

In short, Bane looked like he had been dragged through Hell and back. What was worse, he looked as though he couldn’t care less. His eyes were focused on Obi-Wan with such laser-like intensity that Obi-Wan had to consciously force himself to remain still and not fidget.

To be truthful, Bane’s outward appearance was not so dissimilar from Obi-Wan’s inner state, though he would never admit such things to the dastardly criminal.

“I don’t remember you appearing so misused the last time we met,” Obi-Wan commented with his trademark charm, as if they were exchanging pleasantries over a dinner table and he was not, say, tied to a chair with multiple abrasions covering his body. “I take it life as a fugitive has not treated you well?”

Obi-Wan was rewarded for his tone by Bane rushing forward and slamming his fist into the Jedi’s gut. He did not have enough air to cry out as he doubled over, crackling pain shooting up his arms as his bindings were unintentionally jostled. When he did have air to breath, he gave a half-cough, half-laugh.

Considering his current predicament, antagonizing the bounty hunter was not the smartest course of action. But whether it was the drug Bane had injected him with or just his general state of exhaustion, Obi-Wan wasn’t feeling quite himself at that moment – as indicated by the wolfish grin on his face.

“I suppose… I deserved that,” Obi-Wan wheezed with wry humor, fully aware that his actions were becoming quite foolish.  Ordinarily, he would have had no qualms with throwing sharp words at this particular bounty hunter, but he was at Bane’s complete mercy. It would be wise to curb his sarcasm for the time being.

“Deserve? _Deserve_?” Bane growled through his teeth as he grabbed a handful of Obi-Wan’s hair and snapped his head back, bringing his narrowed crimson eyes within inches of the Jedi’s. “I’ll show you exactly what you deserve, _Kenobi_!”

Bane’s bony knuckles crashed into Obi-Wan’s face, repeatedly and violently – the Jedi helpless to do anything but attempt to clear his mind, focusing inward and pushing the bright pain into the background. Obi-Wan couldn’t be certain, but he thought he partially lost consciousness at some point, unable to see anything but flashes of blue knuckles.

Once the gray fog receded from his vision, Obi-Wan blinked up at Bane as the Duros panted harshly, his hands darkened by a mixture of red and green. He appeared as if he would physically and mentally come apart at any moment, and Obi-Wan assumed he didn’t look much better.

The Jedi Master continued to watch the bounty hunter, steadying his own breathing as he focused the Force inside of him, ignoring his throbbing and bleeding face. He pushed away the doubt, the pain, the fear, and focused on what was most important. He needed his lightsaber.

Obi-Wan glanced toward Bane’s belt, but the hilt was not there. Wherever it was, it was hidden out of sight. A smart move on the part of the bounty hunter, but unless he had removed it far from hand, Obi-Wan would be able to recall it.

His attention was drawn upwards at the sound of a pistol cocking, and thoughts of his lightsaber were put on hold as cool metal met flushed skin.

Obi-Wan Kenobi spit coppery blood onto the plush carpet of the darkened bedroom, shaking the hair from his eyes as he studied the man who towered over him. The Jedi was unperturbed by his bleeding lip, his panging ribs, even his throbbing knee (he was fairly sure he had a torn ligament). His only concern was the trouble in front of him, and the barrel of a LL-30 blaster now pressed against the center of his forehead.

Obi-Wan’s smoldering glare was fixed on the oval, crimson eyes that blazed with an all-consuming hatred he had seen before, not so long ago on the planet of Naboo. It was after that fateful encounter that things had begun to fall apart for Obi-Wan, and this seemed to be the inevitable culmination of that event.

“What are you waiting for, bounty hunter?” the Jedi prodded, slightly shifting in the cushioned chair, his bound wrists clinking behind his back. “Here I am, face-to-face. If I remember correctly, that _is_ your preferred method of murder.”

The pressure against his forehead increased, and Obi-Wan wondered (not for the first time) just what in the hell he was doing. Why was he taunting the mercenary who had every incentive to plant a bolt between his eyes? Had things fallen so far that he had acquired a death wish?

And yet, apart from his ragged breathing, the Duros remained silent. There was no blaster-fire, no more vicious blows to Obi-Wan’s face or body, and the expression on his captor’s face was… odd.

Plunging headlong into the recklessness that was more characteristic of his former Padawan, Obi-Wan lifted his chin and snapped, “Kill me or release me. Either way, get on with it, _Bane_.”

As he watched the bounty hunter’s expression slowly change into something completely foreign and alarming, Obi-Wan sensed the change in his emotions happening simultaneously. The ugly, all-consuming hatred began to fold into a hardened gem of something awfully close to pain.

“You don’t gotta clue, do you, Jedi?” Bane growled quietly, and Obi-Wan could actually hear the tremble in his voice. The barrel of the pistol was still pressed to his forehead, but the Jedi could see the hand that held it was slightly shaking.

“No… you got no idea. Why would you? Deh Jedi have no remorse. No humility. Just a moral code dhey claim to follow with one breath and break with deh next.” The pressure increased against his forehead as Bane’s lips pulled into a hateful snarl, and Obi-Wan knew that there would be a circular indent in his skin. Of course, if the Duros pulled the trigger, he wouldn’t have to worry about a little bruising later.

“Deh great meddlers of the galaxy. Deh peacekeepers who kill. Deh holier-dhan-thou knights who tink dhey’re above everybody else.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows raised incredulously as he remarked, “Are you out of your mind, Bane? What are you _talking_ about?”

The barrel of the pistol was removed from his head, only for the butt of the weapon to slam into the side of Obi-Wan’s face, cutting his cheekbone and giving him yet another injury.

“Shut yer mouth, _Jedi_. I ain’t done,” Bane seethed, his bared fangs illuminated by the dim light coming from the window.

“Clearly,” Obi-Wan replied evenly as he felt warm liquid begin to trail down his cheek, his next words edged with sarcasm as he smiled amicably at the bounty hunter. “I had no idea you felt so strongly about our Order.”

Bane roughly snatched the front of Obi-Wan’s robes, causing him to groan in pain as his handcuffs sent more jagged spikes of pain into his arms.

“Yer _Order_ ain’t nothin’ but a buncha phonies,” Bane hissed as he held Obi-Wan inches from his face. “A cult of murderers and liars. You claim I kidnapped yer children, but I only got to ‘em before you did.” The bounty hunter roughly shoved him against the back of the chair, releasing Obi-Wan while glaring with eyes narrowed into menacing slits. “Yet _I’m_ deh criminal. Hypocrisy was always deh Jedi way.”

“You left a few things off your list of exploits, Bane,” Obi-Wan replied, dropping his tone of civility as he checked off Bane’s recent crimes. “Torture, terrorism, murder. What was that other one? You know, the _really_ big one? Oh yes, conspiracy to kidnap the Chancellor.”

Obi-Wan expected this retort to be met with more fury and violence, but Bane merely curled his lip at the bound Jedi.

“Is dhat any different from what you Jedi do? How many times have you tried to kill Dooku?” Bane reached forward and grabbed the Jedi’s lower jaw, his smooth fingers digging into his beard as he forced Obi-Wan’s head upwards, demanding his full attention. “How many neutral planets have you forced into yer conflict? How many _innocents_ have died because of yer political war?”

Before Obi-Wan could express his skepticism over the bounty hunter giving a second thought to the innocents of war, Bane’s next words brought him up short.

“How many others have you tortured with yer Jedi _mind tricks_?” The Duros hissed the last syllable unpleasantly, narrowing his red eyes as his fingers dug into Obi-Wan’s cheek. “You haven’t forgotten about dhat, have you? I know I haven’t.”

Obi-Wan attempted to maintain eye contact with the bounty hunter, but he eventually failed. His gaze fell away from Bane, forehead creased in discomfort as he remembered the way the Duros had writhed in agony while under the effects of Force persuasion. How he had snarled and howled in pain as Master Windu, Anakin, and Obi-Wan had attempted to pry open his mind unsuccessfully. It had been an unpleasant memory, one he tried not to dwell on, and it was something he never spoke about with the others.

Obi-Wan understood what had been at stake – not just missing children, but the future of the entire Order and all Force-sensitive people. The Sith had found a path the Jedi could not allow them to explore. There had been no alternative. He just wished he could have removed Ahsoka from the room beforehand. The haunted look in her eyes after Bane’s interrogation…

“Dhat’s what I thought…” Bane growled as he finally released Obi-Wan’s jaw, causing the Jedi to jerk away from the bounty hunter’s touch. If the gesture offended him, Bane gave no indication, standing up to his full height as he glowered at the bound man. “Liars, betrayers, and deceivers.”

Obi-Wan remained silent – not because he agreed with Bane, but because he was too exhausted to argue. The bounty hunter was going to believe what he wanted to believe, and there was nothing the Jedi could do to change his mind.

“Prove me wrong, and I’ll let you go.”

Obi-Wan blinked, turning his head back to stare up at the Duros, who gave a nod, holstered his singular pistol, pulled up another chair from the dining table and placed it squarely in front of the bound man.

The Jedi Master could only stare at him in disbelief.

“You must be joking.”

The Duros took a seat, crossed his long, thin legs, and rested his hands upon his knee.

“Does it look like I’m laughin’?” Bane remarked with a curl of his lip.

“You would put me on trial?” Obi-Wan asked incredulously, wondering what in the galaxy the bounty hunter was planning. He would have thought hearing Bane speak again would have been a relief, but with the way this conversation was going, Obi-Wan preferred the semi-feral, silent Duros who had stalked him to this planet. Single-minded violence, he could comprehend and plan for. Whatever game the bounty hunter was playing now, Obi-Wan didn’t understand in the slightest.

“For what? Simply being a Jedi?” Obi-Wan inquired, his eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to decode Bane’s ulterior motive. Even though the Duros and the Jedi had been embroiled in battle many times, he had never seemed to take their presence personally. Obviously, something had changed.

“Don’t play the victim with me, Kenobi. Ain’t nothin’ simple about deh Jedi, and you ain’t no angel,” Bane replied calmly, displaying the cool composure the Jedi was used to seeing. It did not comfort him in the least.

“That’s quite apropos, coming from you, Bane,” Obi-Wan retorted as he glared daggers at the bounty hunter. “You have far more blood on your hands than I ever will.”

“We all got tings we gotta answer for, don’t we?” Bane answered, never removing his crimson eyes from Obi-Wan as he dragged out the last word, his fangs displayed in the dim light. The man certainly had a way of being intimidating when he wanted to be.

“And what is it, exactly, I must answer for?” Obi-Wan inquired with some annoyance, moving his jaw back and forth to test how much damage the bounty hunter had done from his earlier bout of violence. It had already begun to swell, but nothing seemed to be dislodged or broken.

Bane unfolded his legs, slightly spread them and hunched forward, leaning his elbows against his thighs as he fixed his baleful glare on Obi-Wan.

“Dhat’s deh problem, Kenobi. Yer Jedi arrogance has blinded you from seeing deh point.” Bane opened his hands, almost in supplication as he added, “How’re ya supposed to make amends if you think you’ve done no wrong?”

“Make… make amends?” Obi-Wan barked a laugh, drawing a dark frown from the bounty hunter. “You… what? You want me to _apologize_?” He laughed again, unable to help himself. The situation wasn’t humorous, far from it, but the ridiculousness of what Bane was implying was so absurd he could do nothing _but_ laugh.

This was about the Rako Hardeen incident. Of course it was. It always came back to that infamous mission, no matter how much Obi-Wan wanted to forget it and move forward with his life.

“You want me to _apologize_ for protecting the Chancellor of the Republic?” Obi-Wan grinned with nothing that resembled levity. “You want me to express _contrition_ for thwarting a kidnapping masterminded by the leader of the Separatist Alliance?” The grin began to fade from his face as Obi-Wan’s tone began to finally take on the anger he had excluded from it thus far.

Cad Bane – a cold-blooded mercenary, a remorseless murderer, a vile piece of scum – wanted _Obi-Wan_ to answer for some imaginary crimes he supposedly committed?

“You want me to feel _regret_ for bringing Moralo Eval, a man who had murdered his own mother, to justice?” Obi-Wan’s voice grew louder as he unwisely pulled at his restraints, uncaring towards the shocks that sizzled up his arms. “You want me to confess my sins for using a _Jedi-killer_ as a means to an end?”

He knew he should stop talking. The thunderous look on Bane’s face said everything, and he was making it worse with each syllable. But Obi-Wan could not halt the words as they split from a buried fount of frustration he hadn’t realized was there. The deep concern over Anakin, the anguish he had caused Satine, the Guilt and loathing he began to wear like a second skin – it was all coming to the surface in a string of bitter words that were not truly meant for the bounty hunter at all.

But Bane was sitting directly in front of the rankled Jedi. He was the very reason Obi-Wan had to confront these ugly truths to begin with, and he made for a hell of a convenient target.

“You want my apology, Cad Bane? Well, here it is,” Obi-Wan answered in a low voice, leaning forward as far as his restraints would allow so he could stare the bounty hunter in the eye as he articulated each word clearly.

“I’m _sorry_ they didn’t bury you in a deeper, darker pit – one from which even _you_ couldn’t escape.”

Bane’s roar of fury could have caused a gundark to cower in terror. He launched himself at Obi-Wan, his hands wrapping around the Jedi’s throat as the chair was knocked backwards, spilling them both to the floor as the piece of furniture broke apart under their combined weight.

The bounty hunter’s fingers squeezed mercilessly around his neck, thin legs straddling his middle, and Obi-Wan couldn’t give voice to the pain that was his arms as his bindings mercilessly electrocuted him. The Duros must have felt the shocks as well, but he showed no signs of stopping as he throttled the Jedi with all of his hatred.

Obi-Wan knew he wouldn’t remain conscious for long under the unrelenting vice around his neck. Bane’s fingers were digging into Obi-Wan’s neck so hard he would have torn flesh had he possessed fingernails, but no amount of bucking or squirming would dislodge the enraged Duros.

His hands were beginning to go numb from the constant shocks from the restraints, but Obi-Wan concentrated all of his mental focus on the bracelets. He knew he was going to die unless they came off, and no matter how well they were designed, there was always a way to find flaws in an object with the aid of the Force. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth and mentally speared at the bindings, desperately seeking the chink in the material that would expose a weakness. Time was running out, and he arched his back in a frantic attempt to throw Bane, but he was latched on tightly, spitting out a string of words that were likely curses in Durese.

As his lungs began to burn and spots appeared in his field of vision, the Jedi found what he was looking for – a slight imperfection in the component of the left wrist cuff. Obi-Wan focused down his concentration into a pinprick and plunged the Force into the minute defect, shattering the material into fractured pieces.

Before the restraint had finished crumbling from his wrist, Obi-Wan swung with all his strength and slammed his left fist into the side of Bane’s head, knocking him off the Jedi and onto the floor in a sprawl.

Obi-Wan gasped for a single breath before leaping onto Bane, giving him no opportunity to retaliate. He landed on the bounty hunter hard, grabbing his elbows and pulling them behind his back, pinning them between their bodies.

Bane wasn’t entirely restrained, and he almost dislodged Obi-Wan as he thrashed underneath like a wild animal as he snarled in rage. He fought with surprising strength despite his wiry frame, forcing the Jedi to choose a different tactic of restraint.

Obi-Wan rolled onto his back, pulling Bane on top of him by the arms. He grasped the bounty hunter’s wrists together with one hand, locking them together and pulling them up at a painful angle where the Duros would have no leverage to free them, his other arm wrapping around Bane’s neck to trap him in a headlock.

When Bane attempted to kick him with his heels, Obi-Wan wrapped his legs around the Duros’ limbs until, they too, were linked together.

It was only then, with Bane fully immobilized, that Obi-Wan finally focused on breathing properly instead of gasping and wheezing for much needed air, his various injuries announcing their presence. The Jedi was no less than a complete and bloody mess.

With Bane trapped on top of him, the immediate danger had passed. Obi-Wan outweighed and outmuscled Bane a considerable amount, and he had him in a full body-lock. He wasn’t going anywhere.

The Duros was having none of it. He attempted to twist and squirm and growl menacingly, but Obi-Wan kept his iron grip firmly intact. He was still without his lightsaber, and Bane would not be mentally subdued by the Force. He would have to find a way to keep him under control while he contacted the Council to tell them Bane was in his custody.

Obi-Wan’s attention was snapped back to the situation when he began to feel another change in the bounty hunter. His limbs, before fighting ineffectually against Obi-Wan’s hold, were now trembling in distress. His emotions, once embroiled in a fire-storm of rage, had now become that hardened gem of pain, of agony. His uneven breath was harsh in his throat, and Obi-Wan grew alarmed at the volatility of the bounty hunter’s mental state.

His alarm only grew as the Duros spoke.

“I… I trusted you.”

“What?” Obi-Wan asked immediately, imagining he had heard incorrectly since the bounty hunter had spoken in a breathless whisper.

_“I trusted you!”_ Bane hissed through his teeth, his voice full of anguish as his emotions pulsed with overwhelming suffering. It startled Obi-Wan so completely that he might have let go of the bounty hunter if their limbs hadn’t been so tightly entwined.

_You lied to me_ , whispered another voice, one not spoken aloud or from Bane.

“I saved yer worthless hide when Skywalker was about tah skewer you!” Bane yelled hoarsely as he renewed his struggles against Obi-Wan, forcing the Jedi to tighten his arm around the Duros’ neck. “Saved you in the Box when Eval wanted you dead!”

Bane threw his weight against Obi-Wan’s hold and screamed with unhinged fury, _“I could have let you die, but I didn’t, ya fuckin’ bastard!”_

Obi-Wan was speechless, completely caught off-guard by the bounty hunter’s shocking confessions. But it was nothing compared to what he said next.

“I saved you… I trusted you… And you threw me away like _garbage_.” Bane’s voice broke on the last word, and his physical protests against being restrained devolved into unmistakable shaking.

Obi-Wan was unable to fully process the words the bounty hunter had spoken to him. Unbidden and uninvited, other familiar voices of accusation spoke their grievances in his mind.

_If I’d known what was going on, I could have helped you._

_Why didn’t you tell me, Obi? You can trust I will always keep your secrets._

_I know I did some questionable things,_ Obi-Wan had responded, pleaded. Desperate for them to understand. _I did what I had to do. I hope you can understand that._

_You lied to me. How many other lies have I been told by the Council?!_

_You were dead. Do you understand? A piece of me died with you, Obi._

_I saved you… I trusted you… And you threw me away like garbage._

Obi-Wan had been aware of the suffering he had caused Anakin, Ahsoka, and Satine. Even Senator Amidala had not been unaffected by his “death”, and as touched as he had been by her relief that he still lived, it only added more weight to his heart.

Never, in a thousand years, would he have guessed his duplicitous acts would have wounded _Bane_ of all people.

But they had. He could feel Bane’s agony, almost visceral in their close proximity and magnitude. Bane had now joined Anakin and Satine on the list of those he had deeply wronged and whose trust he had shattered.

But he had had no _choice_. What else could he have done? Warn them of the mission? There had been too much at stake. So much that could have gone wrong…

It went horribly wrong in the end though, didn’t it? Anakin was not only losing his faith in Obi-Wan, he was losing his trust in the Council.

Satine was strong, much stronger than Obi-Wan, and she would persevere. She would heal from the damage he had done. She may even forgive him. But she would never forget how he had allowed her to think he was dead. That grief and heartache had been _real_ , and no amount of apologies could erase the significance of that fact.

And now, Bane. Bane, who had always enjoyed engaging with the Jedi on the battlefield while never making a real effort to kill them. Bane, who had the strength to resist the mental probing of three fully trained Jedi. Bane, who sold his services to the highest bidder, even though his talents could help the galaxy in a multitude of ways.

Bane, who had snatched Obi-Wan from the jaws of death in the den of evil.

And how had Obi-Wan repaid the bounty hunter? With a sneer, a flippant comment, and a three life sentences on a prison planet.

_What have I done?_

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan softly uttered. Bane’s trembling immediately froze, as did his harsh breathing.

“What…?” Bane choked out in a strained voice laden with disbelief. _“What did you say?”_

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan repeated more clearly, still reeling from the shock of his revelation – the full weight of the consequences of his actions. Until this point, he had refused to fully confront the fallout from his deceitful mission.

It had taken the suffering of an enemy for him to acknowledge the enormity of his lies and deceits.

“I’m so sorry, Bane.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected the bounty hunter to do. Snap back into his snarky, sarcastic self and demand Obi-Wan release him. Curse Obi-Wan and tell him what a fool he was.

The last thing he expected was exactly what happened.

Bane’s body began to tremble again, but not only from distress from the intensity of his emotions. His body was shaking from the force of something else.

Cad Bane… was crying.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much for reading! Do you hate Obi-Wan yet? Hang in there readers, I promise you're in good hands! Thank you again to Captain Mazzic for being my wonderful beta reader and for his astonishing artwork.


	3. Chapter 3

The Jedi was utterly stunned, for a moment believing his senses were playing tricks on him. The bounty hunter, trapped against Obi-Wan’s chest, was beginning to sob with a gut-wrenching severity that bordered on alarming.

Bane was actually breaking down and crying, practically like a child. The Jedi could have never imagined the bounty hunter had been so wounded by Obi-Wan’s actions. To be honest, he hadn’t believed Bane had the capacity to show such deep emotions.

A flash of shame heated his face. Clearly, Bane was capable of a great range of emotions, and it was Obi-Wan’s own arrogance that prevented him from seeing it. If Obi-Wan had been mindful of what Bane had been trying to tell him, had paid attention to Bane’s emotions and responded with understanding instead of condescension, Bane wouldn’t have been pushed this far.

Cornering Obi-Wan, subduing him, immobilizing him – this had been Bane’s way of trying to get Obi-Wan to _listen_. And he had refused to do so. He had refused to hear what the Duros was telling him until it had almost been too late.

Uncomfortable with completely immobilizing the bounty hunter while he was weeping, Obi-Wan slightly loosened his grip. He didn’t think Bane was going to attack him – nothing from his radiating emotions indicated he still wanted to end Obi-Wan’s life. His murderous rage had been extinguished in a black torrent of grief.

Sensing the lack of hard pressure around him, the bounty hunter immediately scrambled away from Obi-Wan – though he did not go far. He landed on the carpet and crawled less than a meter before curling in on himself. Bane wrapped his tattered, grimy attire around his thin frame, his blood-red eyes now glistened with moisture as he stared at Obi-Wan with a mixture of misery and burning hatred.

Another occurrence Obi-Wan could have never imagined – that look actually hurt.

“Bane…” Obi-Wan began, and the Duros shook his head. He trembled like a frightened animal, and while he had stopped openly sobbing, his emotions broadcast the suffering he was still experiencing so strongly that Obi-Wan could not help but feel it himself. The intensity of Bane’s feelings was breaking down the Jedi’s own trained defenses that kept such emotions at bay.

“Bane,” the Jedi repeated gently as he moved closer to the bounty hunter’s hunched form, his eyes never leaving the oval orbs as they glared at him.

 _“Don’t,”_ Bane warned, an urgency to his voice as it cracked harshly.

Obi-Wan ignored the unspoken threat in his voice and deliberately wrapped an arm around Bane’s narrow shoulders. The Duros attempted to shove him back, snarling _“Back off, Kenobi!”,_ but Obi-Wan pulled him into an embrace, holding his trembling frame within the circle of his arms.

Bane responded by attempting to beat his fists against Obi-Wan’s chest, but with the Jedi firmly pinning him in place, he could do little more than struggle ineffectually. Unable to cause him physical pain, Bane snarled, “I hate you. Do you hear me, Kenobi? _I hate you!_ ”

Obi-Wan didn’t immediately respond to the venomous proclamations, but he felt his heart give a small lurch. It was not the words themselves that disturbed him, but rather the intensity in each syllable. The conviction of Bane’s words could not be denied.

But then, Bane surprised the Jedi by clutching the front of his robes, pressing his face into Obi-Wan’s chest with a fierce desperation, as if all hope was lost. His bony frame gave in to the embrace, and Bane stopped fighting to escape as he wept so hard that Obi-Wan was worried he would break.

“It’s all right,” Obi-Wan spoke with perfect calmness as he held the shaking bounty hunter. The Jedi ignored the training that mandated he set aside all emotions and attachments. Instead, he embraced the serene, peaceful qualities of the light side of the Force, and attempted to impart them onto the trembling Duros that clutched at him like a drowning man. “Everything is going to be all right.”

Obi-Wan could feel the poignant anguish begin to slowly drain from Bane, as if venom was being extracted from his heart, and he held onto the Jedi as the intensity of his emotions shook his body. Neither one was likely accustomed to seeking solace by physical means, but Bane’s need for comfort was so great it didn’t seem to matter.

As Obi-Wan half-cradled Bane against his chest, his arms wrapped firmly around his shoulders, he had to wonder how his betrayal had wounded the bounty hunter so deeply. Thinking back to his time on Coruscant, Nal Hutta, Serenno, and Naboo, Obi-Wan had thought Bane had gone from dislike, to hate, to barely tolerating the Jedi.

It was true they had spent some together – a few days of traveling while being stuck on a rustbucket that had so many problems his former Padawan would have felt right at home. Bane had turned out to be a surprisingly adept mechanic, and Obi-Wan had kept him company while he worked to keep the ship in one piece. They didn’t have extensive conversations, per se, or share any personal information. They had remained mostly silent in each other’s presence, but it hadn’t been strained or awkward. It had become almost… comfortable.

It had never occurred to Obi-Wan that Bane would have formed a bond with Rako Hardeen, his false persona. But clearly that was what had taken place, as the severity of Bane’s reaction to Obi-Wan’s deceit was closer to that of Anakin’s and Satine’s. Bane’s misery did not stem from a person who was his hated enemy.

What was he supposed to do with this information? How was he supposed to reconcile the fact that a villainous mercenary, someone who had killed Jedi in cold-blood, felt… what? Comradery? Affection? How did Bane truthfully feel about him, now that the Rako Hardeen he knew and Obi-Wan were the same person?

And how the hell was he supposed to feel about _Bane_? The bounty hunter had ambushed and assaulted him. He had allied with the Separatists and the Sith on multiple occasions. He should view the man as an enemy combatant, and shut the book right there. End of story.

Instead, Obi-Wan found himself slowly stroking the Duros along his back, a gesture that felt so natural he hadn’t realized he was doing it. Bane’s sobs had quieted into staggered, hitched breaths, and while his body no longer trembled with racking grief, it still pressed against Obi-Wan closely. It was almost as if he craved the physical contact, leaving Obi-Wan to wonder if Bane had ever been held like this. If Bane had ever had pleasant physical contact at all.

The thought left Obi-Wan feeling strangely saddened. The Jedi were discouraged from overt displays of affection, especially of the physical variety. They were closed-off, aloof, and held those they were supposed to protect at a distance. It was something Obi-Wan had accepted long ago, and rarely spared a thought for what it truly meant. How it truly affected the Jedi to be so… isolated.

Perhaps that was why Obi-Wan found himself not only offering comfort in the embrace, but receiving it as well. It was not an unpleasant sensation, having his arm held firmly around the Duros’ shoulder with the other rubbing his back. Having Bane press his face against the flat of his chest, his long, bony fingers curled around the edges of his robes. It was… actually quite nice.

“I should have listened to you, Bane,” Obi-Wan began to admit, highly aware of the way Bane’s sharp edges pressed into him. He seemed to be all skin, bone, and taut muscle – a veritable twig waiting to snap. “I should have listened. Because you were right.”

Obi-Wan felt Bane relax the slightest amount, though he was still a bundle of sharp points and hard angles.

“I did what was necessary in order to complete my mission. That, I won’t apologize for.” Bane tensed again and Obi-Wan found himself gently stroking the back of Bane’s head, though the coarse fabric of the hood blocked his fingers from making contact with actual flesh. “But that doesn’t mean I acted appropriately at all times. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t… wrong.”

Bane slightly shifted but said nothing, his breathing returning to something that resembled normalcy. It was progress.

“You did save my life, and on more than one occasion. You did put your trust in me. And I tossed it away, as if it was meaningless.” Bane shuddered and Obi-Wan gave him a small, encouraging squeeze. It was astonishing how normal it was becoming, the act of physically consoling Bane. Stranger still that Bane was allowing him to do so, and had not tried to reject his offers of comfort since the initial physical contact.

“I said some callous things to you on Naboo.”

 _Spending so much time with you was no reward either_ , Obi-Wan had retorted after Bane had expressed his suspicions and dislike for the fictitious persona of Hardeen after his true identity had been revealed. The Jedi hadn’t caught it then, but in his mind’s eye, he saw it clearly now. The look of utter betrayal on Bane’s face. The deep wound inflicted by Obi-Wan rapidly masked by outrage and fury as Bane threatened to end the Jedi’s life. It had been the only time Obi-Wan had ever seen the Duros lose his composure, straining at the clone trooper holding his arms as he viciously gnashed his sharp teeth.

Instead of feeling shame for having allowed Bane to believe he had been an ally, instead of trying to understand the bounty hunter’s point of view, Obi-Wan had heartlessly remarked, _Such a pleasant fellow…_ as Bane had been taken away in bindings.

It was little wonder Bane hated him as much as he did.

“I was unkind to you.”

“You were an _ass_ ,” Bane replied, his voice muffled by the cloth of Obi-Wan’s robes, drawing an unexpected chuckle from the Jedi.

“That I was,” Obi-Wan conceded, and he felt the Duros relax a few more of his strained muscles. “I was careless and thoughtless. Your actions showed how you live by a moral code. I chose to ignore the honorable qualities you possess because I did not want to see them. It’s… much easier to dismiss someone if you see them as nothing more than a villain.”

Obi-Wan felt Bane stir at his words. He took a deep breath and asked for the thing he hoped to receive, but never truly expected to. He knew what the answer would be, but in order to start moving forward with his life, he had to make the attempt.

“Bane… Can you forgive me?”

The Duros finally pulled away from Obi-Wan, who reluctantly relinquished his hold on Bane’s shoulders, but only far enough to look him full in the face. One eyebrow ridge was raised higher than the other, and the Jedi realized that Bane’s monochromatic eyes weren’t as unexpressive as had always believed.

“Dhat depends...” Bane drawled as his red eyes narrowed, though the corner of his mouth tugged into something almost resembling… a smile? “How much cash you got onya?”

The question was met with an impressive stretch of silence.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I never kid when it comes to credits.”

“You want me to _pay_ , actual _currency_ , for your forgiveness?”

“What’s deh problem?” Bane questioned as he shrugged his shoulders. “It’s someting I can hold in my hand. It’s _useful_ , Kenobi.”

“Oh for the love of-“

“If you don’t want my forgiveness, I’m more dhan happy to oblige.”

Obi-Wan glared with full force at the bounty hunter, who seemed to be quite pleased with himself. The Jedi was not completely effective at stifling his own expression of amusement, though his beard helped hide its traitorous existence. After experiencing Bane almost literally falling apart in his arms, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but experience relief from Bane’s characteristic greed.

“Hypothetically speaking…” the Jedi began, raising one eyebrow as he appraised the bounty hunter and his tattered appearance.

“Yes, Kenobi?” The half-smirk faded from Bane’s face as he no doubt expected some duplicitous act from the Jedi. After all, Obi-Wan’s deceit had been the reason for that night’s confrontation.

“How much would this forgiveness cost me?” Obi-Wan inquired smoothly, causing the bounty hunter to blink once.

“Well…” Bane drawled after a few seconds of intensely studying Obi-Wan’s face. “You can pay for my ride outta town, for starters.”

“That’s fair.”

“Maybe enough for some new supplies.”

“…Fine.”

“I also need to replenish all my gear, my weapon’s cache, my stock of explosives-“

“Don’t push it.”

Bane smirked and Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his own face. There was something uniquely tangible about that moment, as if he could feel a bond forming between them. Bounty hunter and Jedi, formerly enemies, now something difficult to describe. It was a moment of connection, of recognition, and of acknowledgement of the general unbelievable and surreal qualities of the last hour.

It was, unequivocally, one of the strangest nights in Obi-Wan’s life.

Obi-Wan broke the intense eye contact first, clearing his throat as he reached down to his belt buckle. Bane followed his movements closely as Obi-Wan popped open one of his various belt pouches, and after several seconds of rummaging, Obi-Wan pulled a credit chip from his pocket. The Jedi returned his gaze to the bounty hunter, and offered him the flat card.

“Credits, as requested.”

Bane eyed him suspiciously, as if expecting Obi-Wan to snatch back his hand and laugh at him for believing the Jedi would actually seek his forgiveness and aid a wanted criminal.

Obi-Wan merely waited with the chip extended, his expression patient as he remained cool under the bounty hunter’s hard scrutiny.

Finally, after a long moment of strained silence, Bane snatched the credit chip out of Obi-Wan’s hand, causing the Jedi to raise his eyebrow.

The Duros now focused his gaze on the currency in his hand, his expression less than pleased. “No ingots?”

“That chip contains the full allowance I was given by the Council for this trip. There are enough credits to get you where you need to go.” Obi-Wan gave him a smooth grin as he remarked, “Try not to spend it all in one place.”

The bounty hunter did not return the expression of humor. Instead, he continued to stare down at the credit chip as if to question its authenticity. Or perhaps, he was questioning the authenticity of its previous owner.

“It’s clean, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” Obi-Wan added, realizing he had already given Bane a plethora of reasons not to trust him, especially when handing him a physical object that could possibly be tracked.

Bane did not respond, but he did pocket the credit chip deep within his cloak. Obi-Wan had little doubt the bounty hunter would cash out the chip as quickly as he could, using physical currency that wouldn’t be traced.

Frankly, Obi-Wan didn’t blame him at all. That was the sort of behavior that had allowed Bane to survive for as long as he had. But the Jedi still felt the stir of regret in his chest.

Once Bane was satisfied the currency was secured, he raised his head to stare cautiously up at Obi-Wan, his lips set into a thin line as he fidgeted, as if their close proximity only now bothered him.

“How much time are ya gonna give me?”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to respond, only to shut it again. It was a good question, one that hadn’t crossed his mind.

What was he supposed to do with the bounty hunter? Obviously, he wasn’t going to haul Bane off to prison after holding him sobbing in his arms moments earlier. The idea of it was… perverse.

But his duties as a Jedi Knight and General of the Republic Army demanded he hold the bounty hunter accountable for his actions and arrest him.

Obi-Wan found his thoughts inevitably turning to his old master. Qui-Gon Jinn would have found a solution that bent the rules but also kept his honor as a Jedi intact.

_What would my master do in this situation?_

He barely asked the question in his mind before Obi-Wan had the answer. The answer was, of course, borderline treason, which was exactly why Qui-Gon would have approved of it.

 _May the Council never find out about this, or Mace will surely have my head. That, or he'll bring it up at every possible conversation until I separate my own head from my neck,_ Obi-Wan thought with wry amusement. _  
_

“I have one more day left with the Senator. The Council has yet to inform me of any prison breakouts,” Obi-Wan remarked as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. It did not escape his notice how intently the bounty hunter watched his fingers as they moved.

“Should they choose to make me aware of your status as a fugitive, I _may_ look into the matter.” He removed his hand from his beard as he half-smiled at the bounty hunter, whose eyes had narrowed into red slits. “Until then, I have many other matters to attend to and I honestly can’t be bothered to chase down every outlaw in the galaxy.”

The look Bane gave him now was not the first Obi-Wan had seen. It was the same expression that had greeted Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Master Windu as they had entered the interrogation room aboard the _Resolute_ , one after another, hardened gazes fixed on the cuffed Duros. He had narrowed his eyes into slits, his lips pressed into a thin line, one eyebrow raised as the clever mind behind those eyes attempted to perceive what danger would come and how he could avoid it.

It was a look that Obi-Wan hoped to never see again, as it twisted something inside that felt too close to Guilt.

“Bane, I swear, on my oath as a…” Obi-Wan stopped short as the Duros narrowed his eyes dangerously. Obviously, his word as a Jedi was about as valuable to Bane as a steaming pile of ronto dung.

“I swear this is not a trick. I swear it on my life.” Bane’s eyes slightly widened, and Obi-Wan took this as a promising sign. “That may not be worth much to you, but it has value to me.”

The bounty hunter watched him for a long, silent moment, before closing his eyes and slightly shaking his head.

“Fine. I believe ya, Kenobi. No need to get all dramatic.”

Bane rose to his feet, pulling his rumpled cloak closed around his body as he stared down at the Jedi.

Obi-Wan was about to stand as well when a blue hand entered his field of vision. The Jedi paused, staring at the proffered hand and past it to the bounty hunter. Unbidden, a memory came to the forefront of his mind: Obi-Wan, as Rako Hardeen, extending a hand of assistance to Bane as he climbed with some difficulty from one of the tunnel openings in the death-trap known as the Box.

Bane had stared at the hand with a lip curled in disgust, slapping it away before hauling himself from the hole. The moment had been a peek into Bane’s psyche. He neither wanted nor needed aid from another living soul. He was, and always would be, alone.

Only now, the hand that reached out to Obi-Wan Kenobi indicated that maybe this was no longer the truth.

Obi-Wan grasped Bane’s hand firmly in his, and allowed the Duros to help pull him to his feet.

The bounty hunter released his hand almost immediately, pulling it within his cloak as if he did not want their contact to linger. Obi-Wan felt almost saddened by Bane’s sudden aversion to being near the Jedi, but he could understand and respect it.

Bane watched Obi-Wan for another moment, his body language uncertain, as if he were caught in the middle of an internal dispute. His lips slightly parted, revealing the fangs underneath, but he remained silent. The Jedi waited for him to speak, but he closed his mouth and turned away from Obi-Wan, striding briskly away as he approached the wall of paneled windows.

Inexplicably, Obi-Wan felt his heart beat harder as he realized, with a flush of panic, that the bounty hunter was leaving. He knew Bane had to depart, obviously, but the situation still felt… unfinished.

“Bane?” Obi-Wan called out to him, limping down the steps from the raised part of the room to the lowered portion before halting.

“Mmm?” the bounty hunter hummed in question, turning only his head back to stare back with crimson eyes.

“I don’t…” Obi-Wan began and faltered, unsure of what he was going to say. What he needed to say.

 _Do not overthink it. Speak your words from the heart, and they will lead you true,_ the old, familiar voice of his master spoke with an unseen smile.

“I don’t understand why you live the life you do,” Obi-Wan began again, hoping his words would come across as sincere to the distrustful bounty hunter. “I don’t know what happened in your past to make you behave as though you are without honor and principles. I don’t know why you let others use you when you have the potential to be… so much more.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard Bane take a sharp breath as he watched the Jedi, still as a statue.

“But I do know one thing. I know you’re a good man. You may not let anyone see it, but it’s there. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad I know that now.”

Bane didn’t say anything for a moment, though he did turn to fully face the Jedi, the expression on his face entirely unreadable. They stared at each other for another lingering moment, until Bane blinked and displayed his characteristic half-smirk and drawled, “You shoulda sweet-talked me like this earlier, Kenobi. Woulda saved me the trouble of havin’ to beat some sense into ya.”

Obi-Wan gave a low chuckle, relieved that Bane hadn’t dismissed or mocked his awkwardly-delivered but heartfelt admission. Perhaps he had gotten through to the bounty hunter. He had meant every word he had spoken.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it,” Obi-Wan added with a crooked grin, unable to help but engage in playful ribbing with the bounty hunter.

“Oh, I did. Thoroughly,” Bane replied, his half-cocked smirk now spreading across his entire face. It was an incredible transformation to see a genuine smile on the Duros’ visage rather than a scowl or a bitter frown.

“Yer not half-bad, Kenobi,” Bane added with a tone that was improperly flirtatious.

“Don’t let anyone hear you say that,” Obi-Wan teased as he watched the bounty hunter turn and approach one of the wall-length window panels. "Such a phrase might be mistaken as a compliment."

“I ain’t worried 'bout anybody findin’ out. And I don't give a Hutt's ass what they'd say neither.” Bane pulled open the window pane he must have pried open earlier, answering Obi-Wan’s question of how Bane was able to enter his room undetected. “Even if you talked, no one would believe ya.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” Obi-Wan agreed, one hand returning to stroke his beard – a habit he had picked up for when he was feeling anxious or thoughtful. But his hand stopped mid stroke, and his eyes suddenly hardened as his lips formed into a scowl.

“Bane…”

The bounty hunter turned back again, this time with an eyebrow raised at the Jedi’s tone of voice – reproachful and indignant.

“I think you’re forgetting something,” Obi-Wan responded with folded arms, his glare attempting to be menacing but only came across as petulant.

“Whaddya want, Kenobi? A kiss?” Bane hissed the last word with far too much perverse enjoyment.

“My lightsaber,” the Jedi responded curtly, returning Bane’s crooked grin with a smoldering look as he held out his hand in expectation.

Bane heaved a full sigh, as if Obi-Wan tediousness were the greatest burden he had ever experienced. He stepped back from the window, and with a small twirl of his tattered cloak, approached a small bureau against the nearby wall, opening the top drawer to pull out the Jedi’s weapon.

“Yer precious lightsaber is right here.” The bounty hunter held the hilt in the palm of his hand, gently bobbing it up and down as if testing its weight. “So, how much _is_ it worth to you?”

“Cad Bane, if you do not hand over that lightsaber right now, so help me, I will-“

“Don’t get yer knickers in a bunch,” the Duros interjected with a tilt of his head as he appraised the man in front of him. “Or… whatever you Jedi wear under dhose robes,” Bane chuckled unapologetically. The bounty hunter tossed the hilt to the Jedi Master, who easily caught it in one hand, quickly examining it to make sure nothing had been removed or broken.

“You fluster too easy, Kenobi,” Bane taunted smoothly as he approached the window he had opened previously, his rough cloak stirring in the night breeze.

“I imagine it’s a quality you bring out in many people,” Obi-Wan returned with some of his usual sass, more comfortable with back-and-forth banter now that he had his lightsaber in hand. Not because he expected Bane to attack him again, but of all the many protocols he had willfully broken tonight, losing his lightsaber was not one he wished to be added on the list of infractions.

“Only you, Jedi. Only you.”

With one boot on the windowsill, poised for the jump he was about to take, Bane paused. He turned his hooded head to stare back at the Jedi, the corner of his lips pulling into a close-mouthed grin.

“Don’t dhink we’re squared on dhat torture business. You want my forgiveness for dhat…” Bane’s grin widened as he winked at the Jedi. “It’ll cost you. Triple my rate.”

Before Obi-Wan could respond (he hadn’t the faintest idea how he would do so, anyway), Bane leapt from the window in a show of grace that bordered on showmanship. By the time Obi-Wan had limped to the window and peered out, Bane had disappeared into the night. Not even the glow of his ankle-rockets could be differentiated among the glitter and dazzle of the city as they covered the horizon like a flickering ocean of lights.

The Jedi Master rested one hand against the side of the window frame, running his fingers through his hair as his grin widened under his beard. What a strange night.

What a strange man.

 

* * *

 

After cleaning up and tending to his wounds in the gaudy, ornate bathroom, Obi-Wan stared at the dimly lit room that resembled not so much a bedroom as it did a war zone.

Obi-Wan’s own body reflected the battle that had taken place there. His facial wounds were less egregious than he had anticipated from the amount of bleeding they had caused, but he knew his face would turn startling colors for the next few days. The welts and bruises along his sides and abdomen were beginning to show, and the ugly finger-shaped marks around his neck were going to be difficult to hide.

The Jedi Master sighed with complete and utter exhaustion as he wondered how he was going to explain the mess to the Senator in the morning. Or justify his injuries to the Council when he returned to Coruscant.

For the moment, Obi-Wan just couldn’t give a damn.

Having removed his torn and bloodied robes in the bathroom, Obi-Wan cleared the bedspread of glass with a wave of his hand and crawled under the covers to groan emphatically as his battered body practically melted into the cushioned surface.

He could use the emergency supply of bacta he always kept in a belt pouch, but Obi-Wan decided against it as soon as the thought crossed his mind. Bacta was always in short-supply due to the war, and he would not waste it on wounds that were not life-threatening.

There was also a large part of him that wanted to heal in the slower, more natural way. Some discomfort to act as a reminder of where hubris had led him would not be remiss. And as much as his body ached and panged, the night could have ended on a worse note.

As it stood, Obi-Wan’s heart felt lighter, and the Guilt which had shadowed his footsteps had fled into the night. Perhaps everything _would_ turn out all right.

There was still a wide swath of destruction in Obi-Wan’s wake – that hadn’t changed. What _had_ changed was his awareness of its existence. There were still many wounds to heal. Broken trust to rebuild. Strained relationships to repair. It would take time and constant effort to make amends for what Obi-Wan had started on that warm night when he had crossed paths with the real Rako Hardeen.

But it was a start.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I felt like a giant weight was lifted from my heart after I wrote this, and I can only hope you feel the same way after reading it. I adore writing Bane and Obi, and you will see more of them in the future - either as a continuation of this story or as part of my main Star Wars OC fic (which does not crossover with this tale). That means all the vital therapy that's taken place here has not happened in my main story, which should create for some interesting situations.
> 
> Always and forever thank you to CaptainMazzic on Tumblr who is my beta reader and has created fan art both for the cover and the final chapter. PLEASE check him out on Tumblr if you haven't already - his artwork is quite beautiful and poignant (plus you get more Bane and Obi-Wan and who doesn't want that?).
> 
> Until we meet again, my friends, may the Force be with you. Always.


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